


Watching Ginny

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Masturbation, The Quidditch Pitch: Self Pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-27 09:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Who watches Ginny?





	Watching Ginny

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Beta Note: Written for the I Touch Myself Challenge

 

Thanks so much to Fairy for the fabulous beta. This story was ALSO written for Fitzette, for her birthday.

* * *

I can’t tear my eyes away from the red headed girl.  
  
She’s standing there, in blue jeans that fit her like a glove and a baggy green tee-shirt. Very non-descript, but I know what lies underneath. A beating heart and a body that is pulsing, aching…for someone to touch. It’s been too long since she’s been touched.  
  
She stands there before me and she meets my gaze, her head high and her stance proud. Her hair is straight and heavy, like a curtain down her back. It is hair that was made to drag across nipples and wrap like silken strands around a hard cock. A moan tries to escape my lips at that thought, but I stifle it.  
  
Her hands rest on her thighs and she breathes slowly, in and out. I can see the rise of her chest underneath the horrid green tee-shirt. I can see nipples pebbled, teasing, just asking to be released…pinched…twisted…sucked…bitten.  
  
She grips the edge of the shirt in her hands and slowly begins to slide it up. The first freckled patch of skin comes into view…her flat belly. Her navel shows above the low slung jeans. There are freckles everywhere and all I can think of is a hot tongue starting at one and tracing to the next until all are covered.  
  
With one hand she holds the shirt to her chest and the other lies flat on her belly. She rubs it softly…trails her hand down and circles her navel with her middle finger. It is slightly concave and the middle finger drifts into it and presses, as a tongue would. She lifts the middle finger to her mouth and sucks it quickly and then lowers it to repeat the same pattern with her navel. Circle, circle, dip. She wants a mouth…a tongue.  
  
I want to see her breasts, her nipples. So she swiftly disposes of the shirt.   
  
Small. Round. Succulent. Brown nipples surrounded by reddish brown freckles. There’s no teasing here and her hands go immediately to her breasts, to cup them. She spreads her fingers and the nipples peek through between her first and middle finger. She slides her fingers together and the nipples are caught, and they bulge as she squeezes them tighter and tighter. A rosy flush casts itself over her face and neck and she releases them. They are red and swollen now, from her punishing hands. She shifts a bit and I know that she is wet. She likes the hint of pain. She prefers teeth, but her fingers will have to do for now. She pinches them again. And again and again. She plucks them between her fingers, pulling them as far as they will go and a moan escapes her lips.   
  
I can smell her now. Yes. Very wet.  
  
Much as she did her navel, she wets her fingers and brings them back to her nipples. Her eyes begin to drift shut as she imagines _his_ wet mouth on them, but I refuse to let her look away. I make her face me again. I want her to see what this is doing to me.  
  
Finally, her hand lowers to the zipper of her jeans. She lowers it and the slightest view of pale blue knickers can be seen. She doesn’t even bother to take them off at first, just slides her hand down in there and begins to grind.  
  
She groans and although I want to see her, I know it is urgent for her and I let her continue to move her hand faster and faster until she cries out. And then her eyes do close for just a moment.  
  
When finally she opens them again, she brings her fingers up to her lips. Glistening wet, the first two disappear into her mouth and she appears to be delighted with the taste.   
  
I want more from her.  
  
She takes off the jeans and the knickers. The hair on her mound is as fiery as the hair on her head… and I can see the wetness on her thighs. There’s a small footstool nearby and she hooks the underside of it with her foot and brings it to her. And then she props her foot up.  
  
The hand slides down again and this time there is a terribly wicked grin on her face. Her middle finger slides into her cleft as the fingers on either side lift her apart. I can see her swollen clit when she pulls up. She doesn’t touch it, but slides up and down, up and down on either side. Her hips are moving slowly against her hand.   
  
Her other hand moves back up to her nipple and begins to pinch it again.  
  
Naughty little girl.

Nasty litte witch.

She wants to be fucked.

I watch as her fingers disappear into her and begin to move in and out.

In and out.

Oh so good. In and out.

 

There is a sound behind me and in the mirror I see the door open, and Harry, my Harry, walks in. He's been gone for two long weeks and I didn't think I would see him for two more days.

"Need some help, Gin?"

And he drops his robes.   
  



End file.
